Shades Of Blood
by HarleykellyquinN
Summary: Elizabeth is a high school senior saddled with a heavy burden, and a difficult choice. Her body is changing, and her life is turning upside down. A loner in a new town, no one to miss her or remember her. Until she's taken.


Prologue

Breathing. Heavy breathing, like wheezing. The kind that makes your stomach clench and throat constrict. That's all I could hear as I sat in the complete darkness of an unfamiliar room in god knows what country or continent.

I was so very vaguely aware that I hadn't realized I was tied down. Ankles and wrists constricted, wrapped with old rope that cut against my skin, tied too an old wooden chair.

My entire body was slick with sweat, my hair sticking against the nape of my neck, clothes glued to my petite frame as though I was wrapped in plastic.

Every breath was labored, panting. It had to of been at least 24 hours since I'd last had so much as a sip of water. As I became increasingly aware of my surroundings I realized me and the grotesque asthmatic were not alone, the room was full of bodies. Some of us alive, others well... They could be sleeping. As the fog I was under began to clear and my eyes began to adjust I could see the silhouettes of dozens of other men and women. Most of us in our late teens. At least we all looked to be of the same age from what I could make out in the blackness.

I started to grow alarmed, as I was now fully aware of the situation. A door opened at the top of a set of stairs to the right end of the room that I hadn't noticed before.

We were in someone's basement.

A man descended the stairs, pausing for only a moment to turn the light on. Which just so happened to be a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, and I thought this couldn't get any creepier.

His eyes scanned the room as he paced, looking for something, Or someone rather.

Something about him was strange. His hair was chin length and raged, curling around his ears and framing his face, the color of a ravens wings.

He was uncharacteristically pale but there was a radiance about him. All of his features sharp and alluring. A cut, square jaw line. High and defined, well rounded cheek bones. Thick eyebrows and piercing rust red colored eyes that were framed with the thickest of eyelashes.

He had a very straight and perfect nose. His lips were full, the bottom lip more plump than its counter part.

He was cut, and very muscular. Yet his strong build still appeared lanky, hidden under a loose fitting white t-shirt.

Tall. Very tall. With straight leather pants and big black boots.

Every thing about him terrified me, as alluring as he appeared I couldn't shake the feeling that something about him just wasn't right.

My heart started to pound sweat pouring from my face. I struggled against my restraints, whimpering as the rope bit into my flesh and my wounds began to seep fresh blood. Yet I still tugged and kicked and stressed against my restraints.

His eyes locked on mine, the look on his face annalistic, primal. Tears filled my eyes and my entire body went rigid. He began walking towards me, gaze never faltering. I could hear the heels of his boots clicking against the cement, vibrating in every fiber of my being. Heart beating out of my chest, breaths short, panting.

He stopped, directly in front of me. Head cocked to one side, his eyes smoldering and curious. He pulled a dagger from a small sheath attached to his hip. I closed my eyes knowing that this would be my last breath, my final thought.

Then I felt the cold steel slide between me and the bindings on my wrist as he began to cut me free.

This must be some horrible trick. I am dead. Already dying.

Those were the thoughts that crossed my mind as he continued to cut me free. He lifted me from my chair, and held me steadily by the shoulders. " you're safe" he whispered, his hands were cold as ice but his touch sent shivered of warmth through my body.

One of those icey hands moved from my shoulder to grasp my face, giving me chills.

I opened my eyes, he stood almost a foot taller than my measly 5'4", and smelled of earth and laundry detergent. "A name milady" his voice had a strange lilt, or accent rather. That I couldn't quite place but I could definitely tell it was old. "My name is Elizabeth" I said, I stood confused. Watching his strange red eyes dilate, I removed his hands from my shoulder. Wanting to run away from that touch that burned, and melted me to my core.

"I'm so sorry" he said, and the look that passed briefly over his eye's made me believe him. Those were the last words he said to me, at least that I could hear. He retrieved something from his back pocket and I barely saw the flash of steel before he plunged the needle deep into my neck and pushed its contents straight into my blood stream.

Everything went black.


End file.
